


to go back (is impossible in existence)

by DreamBrother



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Coda, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Season/Series 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23415526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamBrother/pseuds/DreamBrother
Summary: Coda to 10x21 (potential spoilers for 10x22).As Steve and Danny wait for a crime scene unit to show up at the house, their conversation continues.
Relationships: Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams
Comments: 29
Kudos: 157





	to go back (is impossible in existence)

**Author's Note:**

> Last chance to write a missing scene between two episodes before the next one airs and destroys my head-canon; figured I'd shoot my shot. 
> 
> This isn't as light and fluffy as my current series, but to whose of you reading that, don't worry, part four is in the works, it should be ready once we're past the finale. 
> 
> Spoilers for season 10 up to 10x21; minor potential spoilers for 10x22 but who knows, I may be completely off.

_It is said that before entering the sea_  
_a river trembles with fear._

_She looks back at the path she has traveled,_  
_from the peaks of the mountains,_  
_the long winding road crossing forests and villages._

_And in front of her,_  
_she sees an ocean so vast,_  
_that to enter_  
_there seems nothing more than to disappear forever._

_But there is no other way._  
_The river can not go back._

_Nobody can go back._  
_To go back is impossible in existence._

_The river needs to take the risk_  
_of entering the ocean_  
_because only then will fear disappear,_  
_because that’s where the river will know_  
_it’s not about disappearing into the ocean,_  
_but of becoming the ocean._

'Fear' by Khalil Gibran

  
**to go back (is impossible in existence)**

“Hey Duke, it’s McGarrett. I need you to send a crime scene unit over to my house. Yeah no, I’m fine. There was an intruder, he ran away after Danny offered himself up as a punching bag. No, he’s okay, nothing we can't patch up. Thanks man, see you in fifteen.” Steve slipped his phone back into his pocket and stepped back towards Danny. 

“You really know how to let a man keep his dignity, babe," Danny muttered, the back of his right hand pressed against his nose to lessen the bleeding.

“Yeah yeah, take it up with your boss. Oh wait, that’s me. Come on.” Steve grabbed Danny's hand and with another hand under his elbow lifted his partner to standing.

“Come on what?” 

“Let’s get you on the couch, wanna take a proper look at you.” One hand still on Danny's elbow, the other gently pressed against the small of Danny's back, Steve led his partner over to the couch by the front door.

“Steve, I’m fine," Danny protested even as his body sagged against the soft cushions, his head tilting back, eyes closed.

“Just shut up, will you? Okay, sit tight, I’ll be right back.” Even without looking, Danny could track his partner's movements. First, his partner made double time up the stairs and five months of living in the McGarrett home had made Danny very familiar with the specific creaks that came from when Steve was in the master bathroom. The clink and thunk of a cabinet and closing was enough to know that Steve had dug out the smaller of the two first aid kits he kept in the house. Then, the creaking of the stairs as his partner came down again but instead of coming towards the couch, Danny heard him move towards the kitchen. The swoosh of the fridge door opening made it clear what his partner was looking for.

“Hey, not the peas! I’m making a lasagne for dinner, need the peas," Danny called out.

“It’s fine; between you, me and Junior, we’ve got enough cold packs to stock a field hospital." A thump as the freezer door was closed again, a quick running of the taps, and a heartbeat later, Danny could feel something cool and hard pressing gently against his cheek. Opening his eyes, he reached out and accepted the glass of water his partner was offering him.

"Here, take these." Steve handed Danny two pills of what he assumed were Tylenol but he didn't bother checking as he tossed them into his mouth and chased it with a drink of water.

As Danny swallowed the painkillers, Steve sat down on the coffee table so he could face his partner, their knees knocking against each other's in the small gap between the couch and the table. Grabbing one of the gel ice packs they kept in the freezer, Steve wrapped it in a dish towel. "Here, put this on your knuckles, I’ll clean the cuts.” 

“Steve, I’m hardly at death’s door here, I can take care of this myself.” 

“Will you stop your whining and let me do this?” Opening up the first aid kit he kept in his bathroom, Steve pulled out a few of the cleansing wipes and opening one, started wiping away the blood from the cut over Danny's right eye.

“Woah, what’s with that face?”

“What face?”

“The guilt face.”

“I don’t have guilt face.” Putting aside the used wipe, Steve opened up another packet and began to wipe away the blood from Danny's nose, using his other hand to tilt Danny's head back and feel along the bridge of his nose for any breaks. 

“Yes, you do, you have guilt face." Danny was undeterred even as Steve carried on, trying not to flinch at the slight pressure on his sensitive nose. "And guilt eyes, guilt shoulders. You’re a package of guilt my friend.”

“So what?” 

“What do you mean, so what? Don’t be idiot, what are you feeling guilty over?”

“Danny, you just got attacked, in my house, because someone’s looking for a letter my mother sent me. Even dead, she’s causing trouble.”

“Still not hearing a reason why you’ve got guilt face going.”

“Did you get knocked deaf or something? I just told you.” Satisfied that the wounds on Danny's face wouldn't need any bandages or stitches, and with the blood now wiped clean, Steve reached for the buttons of Danny's shirt. Danny, too caught up in sorting out his best friend's guilt complex, didn't even notice. 

“Steve, it’s not your fault that some lunatic wants a gibberish letter your mother sent you.”

“Maybe not, but you getting your ass kicked is my fault. People keep getting caught up in my shit, and I’m sick of it.”

“I know, man, I know.”

"Jesus, how hard did the guy hit you?" Steve had pulled aside Danny's shirt and hissed as he saw the redness that was the precursor to deep bruising. Danny's sternum and right side showed where most hits had landed and Steve tried to be gentle as he pressed his hand against Danny's ribs and abdomen, feeling for breaks and any rigidity which would have indicated internal injuries.. "Don't think any of your ribs are broken but you're going to be a rainbow by tomorrow."

"You should see the other guy."

"Can't wait. I can return the favour for you." Steve reached for another cold pack and pressed it against the worst of the redness, hoping it would prevent the bruising developing too deeply.

Danny inhaled sharply as the cold sensation pressed against his side, bringing his hand on top of Steve's and pressing down harder. 

“Just this morning, what did I say to you at the cemetery? That I didn’t care, I didn’t want another mystery, especially not one of mom’s. But life on life’s terms, right?” Removing his hand from under Danny's but not before giving it a gentle squeeze, Steve began pushing the shirt off of Danny's shoulders. 

“Steve, come on. We’ll find the intruder, figure out the cipher, then we finish this. Unless that lawyer has another ten letters that are coming your way every few months, this will be over soon.” Danny leaned forward to help Steve get the shirt off his back. "What are you doing?"

"Need to check your back then I'm gonna get you to lie down on some ice packs," replied Steve as he bundled up the shirt and put it next to him on the coffee table. "Where does it hurt the most?"

"Where doesn't it hurt? That fucking bookshelf of yours needs to go." 

"Yeah yeah yeah, just like my TV huh? I knew you wanted me to get an OLED for games night, could've just said so, you didn't have to smash it."

"Where's the fun in th-aah, _damn it_ Steve."

"Sorry, sorry, but need to check nothing's broken, buddy. Okay, I'm going to put two ice packs down, I want you to lie on top of them." With one hand keeping an ice pack pressed to Danny's chest and the other on the back of his neck, Steve helped the other man get into a position which would allow most of his injuries to be treated at the same time. 

"I feel like the filling of an ice sandwich."

"You look it, too."

“You know CSU are going to bust in here any minute, right? What are they gonna think of me lying half naked on your couch?”

“Nothing they all haven’t thought already, Danno.” Grabbing another ice pack, Steve pressed it against the part of Danny's chest which wasn't yet covered. He could feel his partner's body shiver slightly from being shirtless and covered in ice packs, but Steve wasn't yet ready to move away in order to grab a blanket. 

“You’re not joking.”

“This ain’t my joking face. I’m pretty sure most of them think we’ve been together all this time.” 

“Huh”

“And if some of them didn’t think that, you living with me the past few months probably changed that.”

“So what, you’re telling me our entire crime scene unit think I’m your kept man?”

"Well, would they be wrong? I've been funding your lifestyle these few months. Never bought so many eggs in my life." 

"I've been funding you last ten years, babe, payback's a bitch," Danny shot back, causing Steve to smirk. 

A minute passed, the only sounds the birds chirping outside and a car passing by the front of the house.

“Wanna hear something funny?" Steve's voice was quiet as he broke the silence, his eyes focused on the ice pack on Danny's chest. At Danny's nod, he carried on."When the lawyer first rang, part of me actually thought maybe mom had left Mary and me some sort of apology letter. You know, explaining why she did what she did all those years ago, clear the air once she was gone and all that." Steve laughed. "Stupid, right?"

"No, not stupid. That's a reasonable assumption to make, babe. Most parents would want another chance to speak to their kids one last time, with a letter or whatever."

“Have you?”

“Have I what?”

“Written a letter for Grace and Charlie.”

“You mean one of those ‘if you’re reading this, I’m probably dead’ kinda things?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah I have, actually.”

“When'd you write it?”

“I had one for Grace, already, after Petersen took her. I wrote her a new one, and one for Charlie, just before the liver bisection."

“What does it say?”

“Nosy bastard.”

“Right, sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Maybe, but I’m gonna tell you anyway. Just the standard stuff, I suppose. That I love them, that I hope I didn’t die doing something stupid.”

“As if I’d let that happen.”

“And that they need to keep an eye on their Uncle Steve if I’m not around to do it myself.”

“... you really wrote that?”

“Yeah. Just like in my letter to you, I’ve told you that Grace and Charlie are now yours to take care of.”

“Shut up, Danny.” Clearing his throat, Steve checked his watch to see how much time had passed, but it wasn't enough for Danny to not notice the sudden sheen appearing in his friend's eyes.

“You’re the one who asked.”

“I know, I wish I hadn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t even want to think about you not being around, alright? Not after Joe, or mom. You got me through losing both of them, who would get me through losing you?”

“Not gonna happen, babe.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Yeah, well, it goes both ways. You got me through losing Matt, almost losing Grace. Who'd get me through losing you?”

“You’ve got your kids.”

“Yeah, but it’s _you_ I imagine sitting next to as an old man watching the sun set, babe.”

Steve was silent, focusing instead on replacing one of the ice packs on Danny's chest with one he hadn't yet used. 

"Yeah well, that may still happen," Steve murmured finally.

"Literally ten minutes ago you told me you weren't sure about that anymore."

"Well, ten minutes ago you went to get a beer and now you're lying on my couch having had your ass handed back to you. What's gonna happen to you if I leave for a couple of months to go 'find myself' or some shit like that?"

"It's not your job to protect me, Steve."

"Oh yeah? Then what the fuck have I been doing these past ten years, huh?"

"Hey, why are you getting angry with me?"

"I'm not getting angry with you."

"Yeah, you are, and I don't understand why. You said it yourself, you've been protecting everybody except for yourself." Removing his hand from the ice pack he had been pressing against his sternum, Danny reached out and curled his fingers around the nape of Steve's neck, his thumb gently stroking his cheekbone. "And I'm telling you, you can take me off that list of yours. If it's a choice between you being happy, and you being here with me, playing the hero for everyone, I rather you choose being happy."

"Danny…" Steve's voice cracked around his partner's name, his shoulders slumping as he ducked his head but reaching out and grasping the wrist of the hand Danny had on his face, squeezing tightly.

"I mean it, Steve. It's not your job to save everyone, and it's not your fault that your mother keeps throwing shit at you even from beyond the grave. I love you, my kids love you, and I want, no, I _need_ , you to be happy, even if that means you have to be far away from here."

The sound of a sniffle made Danny tighten his grip on Steve's neck, and his heart broke as he felt a bead of moisture trail from Steve's eye down to where his thumb was still caressing Steve's cheekbone, his own eyes growing wet in response to his best friend's pain. 

"Danny-"

Anything Steve had to say was lost to the sound of a police car and van pulling up in the driveway, the sound of doors opening and closing telling them Duke had arrived alongside the crime scene technicians who would attempt to find any evidence that led to the identity of the intruder. 

Jerking his hand away from Danny's wrist, Steve stood up and wiped away the moisture on his face in one smooth move, the conversation that had started by the beach just over twenty minutes ago effectively over. 

Two days later, Steve reached out and wrapped his fingers around Danny's wrist, gentle so as not to press against the abrasions left behind by the binding used by Daiyu Mei's accomplices during his partner's abduction. Other than the sound of the ventilator pushing air into Danny's lungs, the ICU cubicle at Tripler was quiet. 

Standing up, Steve bent over the railing of the hospital bed and pressed a kiss against Danny's forehead before running a gentle finger over his partner's closed eyes.

"I'm sorry, buddy. I tried," he whispered, before turning around and walking away.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, I'll fix this after the finale airs!
> 
> Comments are love. Keep well, everyone.


End file.
